POEM: "God gives special children to special parents."

When I heard this, I wanted to punch the woman in the face.

Our daughter Sarah when she was around two years old, circa 2015.

Today I’d like to share with you some first thoughts when a woman from our former church stopped by during the first week after Sarah’s birth. She said, “God gives special children to special parents,” and this poem expresses my internal reaction, which I have never before given voice to.

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“God gives special children to special parents”

she said, one week after Sarah’s birth—

One week after twenty-six hours of labor,

an unplanned c-section,

a hushed operating room.

One week since I’d heard the words

Apert syndrome

always in tandem with

twenty to sixty surgeries.

One week with

unanswerable questions that filled

the silence at night

and spaces between medical appointments.

I did not want a special child.

I was not a special parent.

I hated the treacly mention of God when in—

one week—

two of my friends birthed

healthy infants.

I did not.

Why was mine born with a rare diagnosis?

The woman smiled in my doorway,

offering the platitude, “God gives special children to special parents”

with a platter of food,

And I stared at her,

smiled

said thanks,

but all I could imagine

was slugging her in the face.

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